


ghosts that slip through your fingers

by MissjuliaMiriam



Series: Garrett Hawke [5]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Compartmentalization (but not in a healthy way), Grief/Mourning, Isolation, Loneliness, M/M, Post-All That Remains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissjuliaMiriam/pseuds/MissjuliaMiriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The harder he clings to the people he loves, the quicker they fall away into the wind. By now, he should be used to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ghosts that slip through your fingers

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT HAPPY. My M!Mage Hawke, for all that he's Blue, earnest, and very cute, is very fucked up. This is the same Hawke as in Back, Back, Back., but this comes first chronologically. If I write more about him and his dumb boyfriend, I'll probably throw them into a series together, but for now they're so far apart there's no point. Anyway. Enjoy.

_You are looking for forgiveness, but I'm not the one who can give it to you._

For a long time after that, Garrett sits on the bed with his head in his hands and breathes, holding back tears by his fingernails. He hates that Fenris is right. He wanted something that he knew Fenris wouldn't give him, but he had hoped that, maybe, just maybe, he might be granted this one thing. By now, he should have figured out that he is granted nothing in life that he hasn't bought with blood.

Gamlen knocks on the door hours on into the evening, says, "I'm staying here tonight."

Garrett nods. Gamlen's voice is steady, but his eyes are red.

"Where's your good-for-nothing brother?"

Garrett shrugs.

"Well- well. Okay." He hesitates for a moment, like he's going to say something else, but then he turns away.

Eventually, the day catches up with Garrett, and he slumps over, falling straight into exhausted sleep. He wakes from dreams of demons offering him his mother's life, offering him the power to make it right, and he is stiff, sore, and grimy. Her blood is still caked under his fingernails. He cannot bring himself to bathe.

He wanders downstairs in a haze without changing from his tunic, and steps out onto the streets of Hightown right into the bustle of midday. The manor district is quiet, as always, but as he passes through the streets like a ghost he walks right through the middle of market. There is so much life in Kirkwall, he thinks, and it makes bile rise at the back of his throat.

He finds himself in Lowtown, standing in front of the Hanged Man. No sound comes through the door, and the sun is setting. If he wanted, Garrett could leave. He could just wander down toward Darktown, and let himself be lost in the city. But he is alone, unarmed and unarmoured, and though he feels distant and removed, he doesn't want to die. Not yet. So he goes inside and he stands in the doorway, looking at everything and nothing, until Isabela is suddenly there. She's startlingly gentle as she wraps one graceful hand around his wrist and pulls him through the inn, up the stairs toward Varric's haunt. 

Merrill is there, listening to some story Varric is weaving, but she leaps from her seat when she sees him, and then begin fidgeting, clearly unsure. Garrett tries to offer her a smile, though he's sure he fails from the stricken look on her face. She had been there. Standing at his shoulder as he held what was left of his mother, and watched her fade from the world. Her and Isabela and Fenris- surely between them, Varric knew by now as well what had happened. As for the rest, Aveline, Anders, even Carver, Garrett had no idea. He would have to go see his brother soon.

"Come sit, Hawke," Varric says, and pats the chair next to him. "Take a load off."

Garrett sits. 

"I'm not going to ask how you are, because it's pretty clear just from looking at you that you're nowhere near okay."

"I'm fine," Garrett says. His voice is a scratched, whispery thing. He hasn't spoken to anyone since Fenris, last night, and that was hours ago. He's been choking on the grief since then. It's made a ruin of him.

"We both know that's bullshit," Varric says. "I'm surprised you're not with Broody. I know you two are close."

"I couldn't ask that of him," Garrett says. "Fenris is- he did what he could. I can't ask more."

"Your mother just died, Hawke. You can ask anything you want." Varric's tone is utterly blunt. Garrett doesn't flinch, but it isn't without effort. He feels so far away from everything. He wants to stay there.

"There's nothing I need," Garrett tries. "I don't know why I came."

"Because it's not good for you to be alone when you're hurting," Merrill says. She's standing across the table from him, and she retakes her seat and places her elbows on the table, leaning in intently. "We're here, Hawke. You know that."

Garrett nods absently. "I know. Thank you. Maybe I should go. I'm not good company right now, I know."

"It's not about being good company," Isabela says, and leans into his side. She's so warm. "It's about  _having_ good company. Come on, Hawke, you know you want us." She's teasing, but there's a thread of sincerity in her voice that Garrett's not sure he's ever head before.

"I- it's okay," he says, hesitantly. "I honestly didn't even mean to come here." But he cannot deny he feels better. "I'm used to being alone."

All of them stare at him. He squirms a little under their scrutiny. He tries to hide those mannerisms, usually. The ones that mark him as vulnerable, as unsure, as afraid. He draws on his mother and his sister and his brother and his father, remembers them when he needs to be noble or charming or brash or lively, but underneath the face of Hawke, Garrett is a little less substantial. When he was only a boy from Lothering with fire in his blood, he was allowed to be scholarly and awkward and earnest. Here, he has to be Hawke. He has to be the hero, to be the protector. He hides away so much. He's used to being alone: Garrett, in a way, is always alone. Hawke is the one with all the friends, all the fame. In this moment, now, with Mother and Father and Bethany and Carver all gone away, he can't be anything but Garrett, and it's impossible to stop himself from squirming, uncomfortable under the eyes of the people he should trust most in the world.

"What?" he says, when the silence drags on.

"You're not alone," Merrill says. Isabela and Varric nod.

"We're always here, Hawke," Varric says. "You shouldn't have to be used to loneliness. Just come see us."

Garrett bites his lip, rings his hands a little in his lap. "I know, I know you're my friends and you're here. I just don't want to burden you, and- and nothing is permanent. I knew that before this. It's better to be used to being alone than to be surprised by it every time."

Varric sits back in his chair, huffs out a breath, and says, "You're a bit messed up, Hawke. No man is an island, you ever heard that phrase? Because it's true. We're not going to just- just up and leave, and you shouldn't be prepared for that all the damn time."

Garrett shrugs. He's been doing a lot of that lately, and forces tension into his shoulders. He should be stronger than this. He is stronger. He draws his strength from his friends, and just being with them makes it easier. That doesn't mean he won't be ready for it when they leave him. Everyone else has.

"It's the way it is," he says. He stands. Merrill looks a little alarmed, and stands up just a moment behind him. Varric stays seated. Isabela never sat down. "I'm... going to go home."

"Off to meet loverboy?" Isabela inquires slyly, but Hawke shakes his head.

"No."

There's concern on Merrill's face and on Varric's, but neither stops him as he leaves. He makes the walk back to Hightown alone and undisturbed. The temptation to give in to Isabela's suggestion is powerful; he wants Fenris desperately. The other man has been ever prickly and difficult, but Garrett is so charmed by him, is so stricken by everything about him, and he has fallen far and hard and fast. But Fenris has made it clear where the line between them is drawn, and Garrett loves him too much to violate that.

He steps back into the Hawke Estate alone, and walks up the stairs, and falls into bed, still clothed, still with his mother's blood beneath his nails. Sleep is a long time in coming.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and kudos are always welcome!


End file.
